Chapter Text
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I lie on the sofa,
reveling within as I drown myself in liquor. In the abyss of my consciousness, I demand for an answer to this dilemma crafted by the haunting illusions of my confusing thoughts.
You see, during midnight of the second wednesday of every month, something peculiar takes place.
The room in which that dratted sofa resides in once was owned by my dear wife, who has been deceased for the past nine years.
Cordelia, my dear beloved. You see, I was like that of a fish drowning in freshwater. She taught me the way to swim into a sea where I could be of use in this world where the incompetent are left to be forsaken instead of taught.
I was, and still am, an embodiment of a fiasco. But in the seven years I spent with my dear lover, it was as if I was strutting proudly on the streets knowing my source of dopamine walks with me, hand in hand.
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The very first time it happened was
nearly a year ago—
*{October 11, 1871}*
Gazing at the thin clouds through the window of my landau, my demeanor stiff as always. A few memories of my beloved, fazed through the melancholic tune that plays in my mind endlessly.
I can recall many years back, where my dear Cordelia and I met for the first time.In a village to the south west of England, Wiltshire.
My family and I traveled to Wiltshire to attend the wedding ceremony of my father's associate. When the ceremony began, my gaze was fixated on a certain lady seated quietly near the church's window.
The rays of the sun penetrating through the colorful glass of the window reflected beautifully on her. The first time I laid my eyes on the gentle curls of her beautiful hair, a color so beguilling it hindered me the whole time the ceremony was taking place.
When the ceremony ended, I took a stroll at the garden.nearby. I saw her, sat near the willow tree with her lovely hands painted with a few moles. My heart jittered as I approaced her, I settled beside her and talked to her for the first time, her voice was gentle but her demeanor was full of robust and excitement.
Over the years, we conversed about many topics, Cordelia and I. We would meet in the village of Wiltshire when my family would decide to stay in one of our manors near that area, but often times we would send letters to each other.
Cordelia and I have grown close, and the day our families decided that we'd be married, Cordelia and I were ecstatic.
My dearest Cordelia is gone now, I feel so lost and miserable not knowing what to do other than reminisce about the times when she was still with me.
My moment deep in thought was disrupted by the halt of my landau.
As I felt the atmosphere that surronded me, I knew that this place indeed isn't what I had in mind.
I arrived at this long forsaken Manor, standing formidably with a lofty stature accompanied with pointy roofs on multiple towers. It was a gothic beauty indeed.
Yet, the oh so dreadful memories rush in, Cordelia and I were supposed to live in this manor together, It breaks my heart knowing she had been designing the architecture for many years back then.
It truly is sorrowful, she wasn't able to see it finally be fully built.
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I can recall that the construction of this manor started on the day of Cordelia and I's wedding.
We'd often visit the incomplete manor, she'd always tell me that she'd love to have her room located on the highest tower in there.
I had to move in my own manor now, my father is now deceased. I am worried that I'd handle my new responsibilities as an earl inadequately.
I have planned to desert this manor ever since Cordelia passed away, I fear the lonely presence of this manor would just remind me of the memories me and Cordelia could've made in here.
The people that are to work as domestic service in this manor would most likely ignore me, as most people do. I am not to blame them. After all, I have been almost unapproachble for the past grueling nine years.
I can foresee that my experience in this manor would be no different than isolating myself even more.
Being surrounded by people yet not conversing and connecting with them feels more lonesome than just being by yourself.
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As I stepped inside, I saw the manor furnished with interior that clashed the demeanor of the manor's exterior. It's ostentatious, I detest it.
The craftsmen approached me with a bow of respect— "My lord, we have furnished the manor with the latest furnitures. Do you favour it?" one of them stated.
Embellishing this manor is no easy task, but I believe the exterior of the manor is already as fancy as can be. Having the manor be furnished with very extravagant furnitures can feel more so overwhelming rather than welcoming for visitors.
But It would indeed be a hindrance to make them fuss about furnishing a manor I no longer have passion to live in.
"It is all right, you all did well." I replied and ended the short discussion by dismissing the craftsmen and the newly hired servants into their quarters.
The head butler escorted me to my bedroom, my room was suprisingly furnished well. It consisted of furnitures that harmonized with the vibe of the exterior of the manor, the exterior that my dear Cordelia designed.
I decided to sleep in early, since there isn't anything to do after all.
I fell deep in a slumber beneath the thick fabrics of my bed. An eerie breeze brought upon me confusing terror. I got up from my bed, my eyes shifted to the corner of my room where a clock dwells in.
It's midnight.
Another spine-chilling breeze passed by, how odd..I left the window open?..
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I took a lantern with me as I planned to gaze at the stars from the highest tower of this manor.
The room of my late wife, Cordelia.
I walked through the dark hallways, and up the numerous steps that led to Cordelia's room, when I finally arrived there— I was enraged.
I specifically informed the craftsmen not to tamper with this room. The furnishing isn't even up to Cordelia's liking. However, my irritation was hindered by a letter that was unanticipated.
[ Your fellow aristocrat,
Viscount Arthur Vance.
Put an end to his life.
If you do not cooperate,
your younger sister
Hellen, will be put
in danger. ]
What foolish nonsense this is.
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